Fall from darkness, Succumb to light
by LoneWolf270
Summary: Sanderson Mansnoozie is the Sandman, a villain set on placing the entire world into a state of eternal sleep. Pitch Black is the Boogeyman, one of four Guardians whose job it is to protect the world from such evil-doings. However, after he falls during a battle against the Sandman and his dream-minions; Pitch Black wakes up to find himself in the Dreamland, a prisoner of the enemy.
1. Chapter 1 Death?

_:P I love this story!_

_He had gone too far._

_It was one thing to send pleasant dreams to sleepers every so often, but it was a whole other matter to attempt to induce a dream-created, permanent-sleep on them._

Pitch slashed at the dream sprites closest to him.

_Then again, the Sandman had never really been up to par in regard to having adequate morals._

Pitch swung his scythe, striking more dream sprites.

_But he had gone __TOO FAR__ this time. This was far more serious than sending a few strange dreams or making humans fall asleep at inappropriate times…_

_He was putting people to sleep __FOREVER__._

_He was attempting to change the fabric of time, destroy the sacred balance of life. _

_It was dangerous._

The dream sprites encircled him, macabre grins spread across their golden, vaguely-human faces.

Pitch attacked them without mercy, desperate to neutralize the threat.

He managed to hit a few more of the grotesque beings, but he knew that he couldn't deal with them all. Not alone.

After impaling a rather nasty sprite, Pitch hoped that one of the other guardians or Jack Frost would be able to assist him soon...Things were getting tedious.

Just as he was preparing to execute another series of attacks, he felt a sharp, excruciating pain in his back, like he had been run through with shards of glass. The dream sprites giggled happily, their smiles growing wider and even more disturbing.

Pitch dropped to one knee, overcome with pain…it was then that he noticed the golden sand slowly creeping over and encasing his body.

_Dreamsand..._

Pitch turned his head to look over his shoulder.

The Sandman was reclining on a dream cloud, watching the scene unfold with a smug smirk on his face.

Pitch scowled at the corrupt dream-maker and, using his scythe, he tried to pull himself up and continue the battle.

Sandman wagged a finger at him, his smirk growing into a full-fledged grin.

Pitch gave him one of his most terrifying glares, and, painfully, readied his weapon.

Again the Sandman wagged his finger at him; a message made of dreamsand formed above his head.

_"Naughty, naughty..."_

Pitch was just about to begin his attack when the Sandman snapped his fingers. The dream sprites' giggles turned to shrill shrieks of glee; they fell upon the Boogeyman like an angry horde.

Before he was completely overwhelmed, Pitch gave the Sandman a final look of disdain. The Sandman gave him a wave of farewell and another message formed above his head...

_"Sweet Dreams..."_


	2. Chapter 2 Made of dreamsand

Pitch awoke to a bombardment of light.

Squinting against the hideous brightness, Pitch wondered where he was and how he got there.

As he lay pondering this, little wisps of memory came back to him.

Memories of the battle, the threat of a sleep-frozen world…

_...The Sandman..._

Groggily, Pitch pushed himself up into a sitting position; regaining a bit of clarity, he looked over his new surroundings. He was in a scantily decorated room of medium space—not very large, but spacious enough to hold a good many beings if the situation required it.

The size of the room and the absent decorations were not what worried Pitch, however…

No. What worried him was the fact that everything—completely EVERYTHING-

...was made up of dreamsand.

_He was in the domain of the Sandman._

...But _why_ was he here?

Pitch tried to stand, but partway up, he was stopped, stuck in an awkward, half-bent position; looking down, he found that golden chains encircled his wrists and anchored him to the floor.

Scowling, he pulled and tugged at the restraints—

...They held firm.

He pressed his lips together and tried to turn the chains into fearsand…

Nothing happened.

Pitch sighed and sank to the floor.

Sandman had some use planned for him, apparently.

Pitch wrinkled his nose at the unappealing thought.

_He'd rather die than be used by __HIM__._

_...But how could he escape? _

_Sighing again, Pitch looked down at his hands._

_At least he wasn't encased in dreamsand any more…that was __one__ thing in his favor. _

_Frowning, Pitch drummed his fingers on his knee, and tried to think of a plan for his escape..._


	3. Chapter 3 I want you Pitch Black

The Sandman smiled to himself as he floated down the winding hall of his island home.

_...It was perfect…Absolutely __perfect__..._

He past door after door; each one filled with the sweet, tender dreams he planned to unleash upon the world.

_...He had him...He __actually__ had him..._

Sandy came to a stop at a door to his left.

_...Pitch Black..._

The twitter and trill of his dream sprites resonated all around; each hoping eagerly for their master to let them out so they could devour the world with sleep.

Sandy raised a hand to silence them.

The twittering fell to disappointed whispers, and finally to silence.

Smiling, Sandy formed a dreamsand key and fitted it into the lock in the door; turning the key, he pushed the door open with a soft creak.

_...Time to begin his little game..._

Pitch had been sitting for what seemed like hours when he heard something outside his prison. Looking up, Pitch watched as the door was slowly pushed open; he scrunched his face into a look of complete and utter loathing as the short, golden figure of his captor enter the room.

"Sandman." He said through gritted teeth, "Get. _Out_."

The other just smiled in response. A message appeared above his head.

_"It's nice to see you again, too, Pitch."_

Pitch snorted and turned away from what he considered to be the most horrible being ever to exist.

A small cloud of dreamsand slipped under his jaw and gingerly turned his face back, forcing him to look at the dream-maker.

Pitch glowered scornfully at the other and tried to pull away.

_"Ah, ah, ah."_ the Sandman signed.

The dreamsand formed a bowl over Pitch's jaw, cupping his face tightly.

_"I want to be able see your eyes."_ Sandman messaged, winding the other end of the dreamsand lazily around his wrist.

Pitch gave him a dark, threatening look.

"If I wasn't chained," he growled, "I'd rip you to pieces."

The dream-master grinned.

_"...You could try."_

Pitch roared and tried to charge the other, snarling in frustration when his restraints held him back.

The dream-maker smirked triumphantly and, forming a platform, he floated toward Pitch until they looked eye to eye.

_"A little hostile, aren't we?"_ he signed.

"What do you want with me?" Pitch growled, pulling desperately at his bonds.

The Sandman grinned; reaching up, he placed his free hand on Pitch's cheek.

Pitch stiffened at the action, surprised that the other would dare to touch him.

The dream-master leaned closer, his grin widening.

"_...I just want __you__ Pitch Black..."_


	4. Chapter 4 Damn you Sandman!

Beware! There's going to be... lemon? In the late chapters soo... NO KIDS!

* * *

Pitch could only stare at the Sandman, astonished at the message he had just conveyed.

The dream-giver smiled at him. Gently, he slid his hand into Pitch's hair, entwining his fingers in it.

Regaining himself, Pitch scowled and pulled away from the Sandman's touch.

The other smirked in amusement; he ran the back of his hand over Pitch's cheek.

"Don't be afraid." he soothed, symbols forming whimsically above his head.

"I fear nothing!—certainly not you!" Pitch snarled, beginning to fight with a new fervor, "Release me at ONCE!"

The other frowned, a look of mild annoyance spread across his features.

In return, Pitch gave him a look of unyielding hate…

...And spat in his face.

...For a moment there was silence...a kind of unbreakable stillness. The Sandman stared blankly at Pitch—Pitch glared defiantly back. Then the dream-giver's face twitched and…

...And the look that came over the Sandman's face was not the one Pitch had been expecting.

A small smile actually formed on the dream-master's features. Gingerly, he ran his fingers over the mark of saliva.

And, one by one, the Sandman placed his fingers to his lips; eyes closed in ecstasy, he ran his tongue slowly over the tips.

Pitch watched him, feeling disgust and the tiniest bit of apprehension well up into his chest.

"...You taste good...Very good..." the Sandman messaged, eyes still closed.

"You're abhorrent." Pitch stated, his tone dripping with the disgust he felt.

The other opened his eyes half-way...He gave Pitch a wicked grin.

"...I want more."

Before Pitch had any real chance to react, the Sandman yanked roughly at the dreamsand cord around his jaw, pulling his face closer.

Pitch bared his teeth, and jerked his face back, growling at the other in warning.

"...Do that again and I'll kill you." He hissed.

The dream-maker raised an eyebrow at the threat; frowning, he leaned in closer.

"...Come here, Pitch..."

"Piss off!" Pitch sneered, pulling against the cord.

The Sandman yanked the chain again, even rougher than before; his eyes taking on an angry gleam.

"Come. Here." He demanded, the dreamsand twisting out the message.

Pitch glared at him defiantly.

"Go to Hell."

...They stared at each other for a few moments, both bristling with rage—both unwilling to yield.

They might have stayed like that for much longer...however, a glint of mischief came into the Sandman's eyes; his face twitched into a crooked grin.

Pitch narrowed his eyes at the dream-maker; he prepared himself for another round of tug-o-war.

The Sandman cocked his head at him; smiling slyly, he let the dreamsand fall away from Pitch's face and dissolve into nothing.

For a moment, Pitch just glared at the other, suspicious and wary.

...But he had only a moment.

Grinning evilly, the dream-master shot a line of dreamsand at him; Pitch attempted to dodge it, but he was not fast enough; the sand twisted around his throat.

Pitch fought hard; he pulled, clawed, and scratched...but he couldn't get the sand away. It clung to his neck tighter than a hangman's noose.

...And it got tighter.

Wheezing and gasping, Pitch fell to his knees; he grabbed frantically—desperately—at the dreamsand rope.

...He needed air...

Pitch fell onto his side from the lack of oxygen; his vision began to get fuzzy.

...Was this how he would die?

...Slow asphyxiation by dreams?

The dreamsand loosened its hold.

Guess not.

The sand slipped from his throat and melted into the floor by his side. Pitch inhaled deeply, savoring the first breath he had been allowed for several minutes.

As he was sucking precious air into his lungs, a hand gently cupped his chin. His face was tilted upwards ever-so-slightly.

The Sandman's face appeared in his line of vision; orange eyes gazed into his near-gray ones.

"...Let's try this again." The dream-maker signed, pulling Pitch's face towards him.

Pitch twisted his mouth into a sneer and yanked his face out of the other's grasp.

"...You sick bastard." he croaked, "Get away from me."

The Sandman's eyes crinkled at the sides with amusement.

"...I can't stay away from you, Pitch..."

Pitch shot him a look of utter disgust and moved to push himself up.

...He couldn't get up.

Pitch looked down...dreamsand was slowly winding itself around his body...slithering over him like a snake.

Snarling, Pitch writhed and wriggled, squirmed and shook...but he couldn't break free. The dreamsand anchored him to the floor; held him like an ensnared animal.

The Sandman slipped his hand under Pitch's jaw again, turning his face to meet the other's gaze.

"...You're too...tempting."

Pitch wrinkled his nose at the remark.

"Let. Me. Go." He growled, menacingly.

The dream-master smiled; gently he brushed his thumb over Pitch's cheek.

"...No...I won't..."

Pitch roared in rage, he twisted against the dreamsand ropes with great fervor.

"Damn you!" he screamed, "I'll make you pay for—augh!"

The Sandman had slipped his two of his fingers into Pitch's mouth, cutting off his tirade.

Pitch glowered; he bit down on the digits as hard as he could—

...The dream-maker didn't so much as flinch.

...He just...Smiled.

Pitch wrinkled his nose disapprovingly; he turned his head to the side—

-Well he tried to.

A cord of dreamsand had wrapped itself around his forehead; it held his head down straight and rigid.

The Sandman smirked; he ran his knuckles over Pitch's jaw.

"...Got you." He stated, the dreamsand symbols rustling with an approving purr.

Pitch sent him the most hate-filled glare that he could.

The dream-master grinned and leaned in close. He nipped at Pitch's lower lip.

Pitch made a sound of protest; he squirmed desperately against his restraints.

The Sandman pressed their mouths together; he ran his tongue over Pitch's teeth.

Pitch amplified his struggles; the Sandman's tongue ventured slowly deeper into his mouth.

Pitch glared at him...

He made incomprehensible threaten...

He twisted and bucked against his bonds...

...Nothing made the Sandman stop.

...The dream-maker continued, his tongue exploring every inch of Pitch's mouth; Pitch wanted to gag from the sickly-sweet taste.

...He wanted to murder the Sandman.

Pitch's face twisted into an expression of the deepest hate. He glowered at the Sandman scornfully.

The other gazed hungrily back at him; his eyes shone with longing...and a hint of disappointment.

"...I'll have to cut this short...for now." he said, the dreamsand symbols twisting and turning delicately.

He drew back from the kiss; reluctantly, he removed his fingers from Pitch's mouth.

"...I'm going to destroy you." Pitch hissed, as soon the Sandman took his hand away.

The dream-giver cocked an eyebrow at him. He licked at his fingers like he was enjoying the remains of a sweet.

Pitch bared his teeth at him; he let out a low, guttural growl.

"You are NOT going to get away with this." He stated, darkly.

The Sandman grinned at him.

"Who's going to stop me?" he messaged, smoothing down his vest nonchalantly, "You?"

Pitch snarled and bucked against his restraints.

The Sandman smiled; adjusting his cravat, he floated towards the door.

"You are a coward!" Pitch roared, as the dreamsand bonds slid off his body, leaving only the restraints on his wrists, "Do you hear?! A coward!"

The other smirked; he opened the door.

"Make yourself comfortable, Pitch," He messaged, "...You're going to be here for a very, very long time."

...And he disappeared from sight, closing the door silently behind him.

Pitch glowered after the dream-creator, wishing pain and harm and terror on him.

After a few moments, he sat down; he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, attempting to remove the sickening after-taste of the Sandman's mouth and tongue.

...So...That was his game was it?

...Torture and humiliation?

Pitch scowled.

He would be damned if he was going to just sit back and let this happen again.

No, he was getting out of here...

...He just had to think of a way.

As soon as Sandy closed the door, the dream-sprites began to twitter again, pleading him for their freedom.

Sandy smiled.

...Why not?

...A celebration was in order.

Forming a pair of dreamsand keys, he unlocked two of the doors.

The released sprites chirped with excitement and joy before flying down the hall in either direction; ready to claim a small piece of the world opened to them.

The other dreams let out disappointed whines at not being chosen; the Sandman silenced them with a look.

"I'm in a good mood at the moment...don't put me off it. I'll let you out when time is right."

The dreams sighed mournfully and fell silent.

"Thank you, that's much better."

Sandy floated down the hall to his own room; a grin spread across his face.

It had all gone so well!

He twirled in the air giddily.

Not only had he done what he had set out to do, which was to begin his process of breaking Pitch; but he had also managed to snag a reward for his efforts as well!

Sandy placed his fingers to his lips.

...And what a positively delicious reward it was.

The Sandman entered his bedroom, twirling and chasseing with joy. He came to a stop at a vanity adorned with a single jewelry box.

Of course, he couldn't just stop with physical torment now could he?

...What was the point of breaking Pitch's body...if he couldn't break his very soul as well?

He opened the box.

"...And what better way to break his will," Sandy thought, taking out a small locket, "than to give him hope of regaining something lost...and then destroying it?"

Grinning maliciously, the Sandman brushed his fingers over the trinket.

He knew just the dream that he would send Pitch tonight.

Twirling a bit of dreamsand in his palm, Sandy began molding a dream…a very special dream.

The sand twisted and curved, forming the delicate shape of a butterfly.

Sandy smiled warmly at it.

...What a beautiful dream.

He placed his fingertip against one of its fragile wings.

...A beautiful dream...for a beautiful man.

He floated to the doorway; gently, he released the dream-butterfly.

He watched as it fluttered away...down the hall and out of sight.

He smiled.

...Sleep well.


	5. Chapter 5 Torture

**WARNING: They may be some swearing, rape, breaking, and torture... I warn you...**

* * *

"Daddy! Daddy, come 'ere! Look what I found!"

Pitch smiled.

_She was always finding something._

He strode over to the little figure in the grass.

"Caught something, have you sweetheart?" he asked, kneeling by her side, "What is it?"

Seraphina smiled at him. Gently, she opened her hands.

A little purple-and-yellow butterfly flittered its wings in her open palms.

"It's a _butterfly_!" she whispered excitedly…like it was the most wondrous thing in the entire world.

"I see," he said, grinning, "...Pretty little thing, isn't she?"

He reached out to touch the butterfly. It fluttered its wings and flew up to sit on his shoulder.

Seraphina giggled.

"I think she _likes_ you, daddy." She stated mischievously, "...Maybe it's because you said she was _pretty_."

Pitch laughed out loud.

"Maybe I should be more careful with my compliments then, eh?"

He placed his hand by his shoulder; the butterfly gingerly walked onto it.

"...We wouldn't want to attract anymore unwanted attention."

The butterfly fluttered its wings a few times, and then flew away; Pitch got up and held out his hand to his child.

"Ready to go home?"

Seraphina nodded; taking his hand, she pulled herself up.

She hugged him.

_"I love you, Papa!"_

Pitch woke up with the words 'I love you' still ringing in his ears. He placed a hand to his face and found it drenched from tears...tears that were still rolling down his cheeks. He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

_...He had been having a dream._

_...A dream...about __her__._

He scowled.

_...What kind of cruel game was the Sandman playing at now?_

The door to the room opened. Quickly, Pitch wiped his eyes and looked up in time to see the Sandman practically dance into the room; he was carrying a basket almost as big as himself.

_"I was hoping you'd be awake."_ He stated, placing the basket on the floor between them; he gave Pitch a disgustingly sweet smile, _"Did you enjoy your nap?"_

"Fuck you."

_"Such bad language, Pitch!"_ the dream-weaver chastened, _"Where are your manners?"_

Pitch sniffed cynically; he turned his attention to the basket between them.

"Brought something to torment me with?" he snarled, "I won't go down so easy this time!"

The Sandman smirked; opening the basket, he took out a checkered cloth.

_"It's been a while since you've eaten last...you must be famished."_ He said, the dreamsand forming concise, matter-of-fact symbols as he spread out the cloth between them, _"So I thought we'd have a little picnic...just you and me."_

"I would much rather die of starvation." Pitch declared venomously, folding his arms in unyielding defiance.

The dream-giver dismissed his remark and continued to unpack the basket; he took out some silverware and plates, a few dainty sandwiches, a small cheesecake, a bowl of different fruits, and two small bottles—presumably champagne of some kind.

Pitch curled his lip into a sneer.

"And what is the occasion that a 'picnic' would call for this much?" he asked tersely.

The other smiled; his eyes shone excitedly.

_"My sprites invaded China last night...Isn't it just marvelous?!"_

The Sandman twirled merrily in the air.

_"...The largest human population in the world...all asleep and dreaming sweet dreams..."_

Pitch stared at him with an expression of wide-eyed horror combined with a simmering rage.

"You son of a _bitch_!"

He lunged at the dream-weaver, pulling his chains taunt. The other cocked his head and grinned at him.

_"We really should work on your language,"_ he said, filling a plate with food, _"...But in the meantime..."_

He placed the plate in front of Pitch.

_"Eat something."_

Pitch snarled at him.

"As I _said_," he huffed, sitting down, "I would rather starve…I'll not eating anything you give me!"

The dream-master rolled his eyes.

_"Stop being so melodramatic,"_ he scolded, the dreamsand practically hissing with exasperation, _"__Eat__, Pitch."_

Pitch glared at the other; setting his jaw, he kicked at the plate in front of him, spilling all of its contents onto the floor.

...For a moment, Pitch felt fairly triumphant...so much so that he grinned haughtily at the Sandman, daring him to say—or rather sign—something.

_...He hadn't thought he would see his smile returned._

The dream-giver's smile was dark and malicious—like he had been expecting—or worse, _hoping_— for Pitch to lash out in such a way. He formed a pair of dreamsand whips.

Pitch let out a soft growl; instinctively, he raised his hands to protect his neck.

The Sandman's grin turned sly; he lashed out the whips.

Pitch let out a cry of obstinate defiance…and frenetic desperation; he grabbed for the dreamsand weapons only for the sand to slip through his fingers and wrap itself around his wrists. The chains that had previously anchored him to the floor fell away; he was shoved violently against the wall.

The dream-giver allowed the dreamsand whips to shift into cuffs, pinning Pitch's wrists to the wall-space by his head. He smiled cheekily.

_"What was that you said earlier?"_ he teased, turning away to get another plate, _"...Something about 'not going down easy,' right?"_

Pitch bared his teeth; he pulled against the new restraints.

"You won't be able to hold me!" he roared, twisting and writhing until his arms ached, "I _will_ break free!"

The other looked at him.

_"No...you __won't__._"

The Sandman filled the plate with food; carrying it, he floated toward Pitch.

_"Everyone believes you're dead...Who would think to rescue you?"_ he asked, dreamsand symbols dancing mockingly about his head; He formed a podium and placed the plate on it.

_"...Who would care to, anyway? You're not well-liked...not even amongst the other guardians, your so-called 'allies.'"_

Pitch glowered at the other.

"You _dare_ to pretend you understand friendship?! Camaraderie ?!" he spat, pulling against the wall-cuffs feverishly, "You don't know the meaning of the words! You know _nothing_!"

The dream-weaver grinned.

_"...I know that children don't believe in you as much as they use to...I know that your power has dwindled...All of which happened after you became a guardian."_

Pitch scowled.

"Humans shouldn't be forced to live in a world with only fear and darkness...A reduction of my power was necessary."

_"Was it?"_

The Sandman leaned in close, smiling a sweet, disarming smile.

_"Don't you see, Pitch? The other guardians don't really care about you…they only let you join them to keep an eye on you…they wanted to __tame__ you, not befriend you."_

Pitch narrowed his eyes angrily...but he said nothing.

The Sandman smiled craftily; taking a strawberry from the plate, he kissed its tip and raised it to Pitch's lips.

_"Say 'ah.'" _

Pitch contorted his face into a disapproving grimace; he looked away.

A line of dreamsand slid over the side of his face; it turned his gaze back to the Sandman.

_"Come on, Pitch."_ The other coaxed, raising the strawberry back to his mouth _"...Just take a little baby bite."_

Pitch set his jaw...sending a very clear message...

_...NO._

The dreamsand sighed around the Sandman's head; he placed the fruit back on the plate.

_"...I had thought you had learned your lesson yesterday."_ he stated, shaking his head in mock-sorrow.

Pitch frowned; he watched the other's movements warily. The dream-maker looked at him; again, he formed a pair of dreamsand whips.

_"...But it seems you still need a few more sessions..."_

Pitch scowled.

"Do your worst, you son of a—"

The dream-giver lashed the whips out at him. They cut into his chest and stomach, ripping at his cloak and leaving stinging trails of gold dust in their wake. Pitch clenched his teeth together, determined not to scream…he didn't want to give the Sandman the satisfaction. The whips struck his face, drawing lines of bluish-black blood. Pitch squeezed his eyes shut; he felt the whips strike him again...

...And again.

...And again.

...And _again_.

The pain was excruciating; Pitch was finding it harder and harder to keep from crying out. Just when he thought he couldn't last much longer, the strikes stopped; something warm pressed against his chest. Pitch opened his eyes.

It was the Sandman.

The dream-master had his head turned to the side, wearing a malicious smirk; gently, he nuzzled his face into Pitch's collarbone.

_"...Are you ready to behave?"_ he asked, slipping a hand into the torn cloth of the boogeyman's robe; Pitch winced at the contact.

"...I won't...obey you." he whispered weakly, "I'm not...an animal."

The dream-giver looked up at him, grinning. Gingerly, he took the boogeyman's chin between his thumb and index finger.

_"Of course, you're not..."_

He placed a gentle kiss on Pitch's lips.

_"...You're so much more."_

Pitch frowned in distaste; the Sandman smiled at him, amused.

_"...Are you sure you don't want to eat something?"_ he asked, gesturing toward the abandoned plate of food, _"You would be in better spirits if you had something good."_

Pitch pursed his lips and glared at the other.

The Sandman cocked his head at him.

_"I'll take that as a 'no'...perhaps we can just talk then?"_

The dream-maker released Pitch's face and placed his head on the back of his hands.

_"...A little simple conversation?"_

Pitch turned away.

"I have nothing to talk about...not to _you_." he stated with as much venom as he could muster after his ordeal.

The other took his chin again, turning his face back to look at him.

_"Oh?" _

He gave Pitch a knowing smile.

_"...What about the dream I gave you? Don't you want to know about that?"_

Pitch widened his eyes...in the course of what had happened he had all but forgotten the dream.

He shot the Sandman a look of suspicion; he gave a sharp nod.

"Yes...let's talk about that." He growled, darkly.

The Sandman grinned approvingly.

_"She was such a sweet child..."_ he stated, smiling sweetly.

The dream-master pulled Pitch's face closer.

_"...Did you enjoy seeing her again?"_

The boogeyman scoffed at the remark.

"What game are you playing at little man?" Pitch demanded, contorting his face into his most fearsome expression, "If you think sending me dreams about my daughter will make me more forgiving toward your actions, you very wrong."

The Sandman shrugged indifferently; he smirked.

_"After so long, I thought you might appreciate a dream about her...and besides—"_

The dream-weaver released Pitch's face and floated back to the picnic basket on the floor.

Pitch watched him with suspicion…and curiosity. The other turned and smiled at him; he reached into the basket.

_"...She has a part to play in an offer I want to make to you..."_

The Sandman took out a small, glistening object.

Pitch gasped.

"My _locket_!"


	6. Chapter 6 I Wish i had

**:P **

**Here we go!**

* * *

Pitch gazed at the Sandman with a look of shock and confusion. He stared at the trinket dangling in the other's hand.

"How did you…?" he began, "Where did you find…?"

The dream-giver smiled crookedly at him.

_"It doesn't matter." _

He moved closer, jingling the locket enticingly.

Pitch stared at him for a moment longer; then his confusion twisted into a look of formidable determination.

"Give it to me." he demanded, "Give it to me, _now_!"

The Sandman grinned.

_"I will...__after__ you hear my proposition."_

Pitch glared at him, fuming.

"You are playing a very dangerous game, little man." he sneered, "Fine...what is it that you want to offer me?"

The dream-master smiled; he looked down at the locket.

_"...You really miss her a lot, don't you?"_ he stated, examining the trinket, _"...Having her back...that's your greatest dream."_

"Don't start changing the topic, Sandman." Pitch snarled, "What is your proposal...and what does it have to do with my _daughter_?"

The Sandman grinned; he continued to examine the locket, turning it this way and that, like it was an object of particular interest.

_"...What if I told you that you could have her back?"_ he asked, holding the trinket in front of his eyes, _"...What if I told you that I know a way?"_

Pitch stared at the other; his face contorted with rage—and pain.

"Then I would call you are a _liar_." he growled, angrily, "Do you think that I am a _fool_?! There is no power in this entire universe that can bring her back!"

_"Isn't there?"_

The Sandman turned his gaze back to Pitch. Pitch glared at him, eyes simmering with hate.

_"...You know that I was once a star, right?"_ the dream-maker stated, _"One of those that travels across the universe—a __wishing__ star."_

Pitch looked at the other with disdain.

"Is_ that_ what you want me to do?!" the boogeyman shouted, "_Wish_ for her?!— She's _gone_! Wishing won't bring her back! — Nothing short of a _miracle_ could bring her back!"

The Sandman smiled candidly at him.

_"...Who do you think performs miracles?"_

Pitch looked at him, shaking with anger; the other floated toward him.

_"...Miraculous recoveries...people returning to life after being pronounced dead..."_

The dream-maker hovered in front of Pitch, his smile innocent and disarming.

_"...Who do you think is responsible for that, Pitch?" _

He leaned in close.

_"I am."_

Pitch glared at the Sandman, his eyes dark and dangerous; the Sandman looked back at him; he dangled the locket between them.

_"...Allow me?"_

The dream-weaver unhooked the locket's chain; he wrapped his arms around Pitch's neck and clasped the trinket in place.

The boogeyman frowned at the contact...but he didn't protest or struggle. He wanted his locket back—and if letting the atrocious little dreamer touch him was the only way to get it, then so be it.

_...Though, if the little bastard lingered much longer, Pitch would most __certainly__ find a way to make him regret it._

The Sandman moved back, grinning like a cheshire cat.

_"...Would you like me to perform a miracle for you?"_ he asked sweetly, placing his chin on the back of his hands.

Pitch glowered at the dream-weaver.

_Did this little villain think that he was naïve?_

_Did he really think that he, a Guardian chosen by the Man in the Moon himself, would trust him? Him, the Sandman—the being that was set on putting the entire world to __sleep__?! _

_Never!_

_...Besides, what he offered was impossible!_

_Impossible!_

_...And yet._

Pitch lifted his head slightly; he looked at the other.

"...And what do you want in return, _Wishing Star_?" he asked, spitting out the last two words like they were poison.

The Sandman smiled at him; he placed a hand on the side of Pitch's face.

_"I just want you to wish for it..."_ he stated, gently caressing Pitch's cheek, _"it's like you said earlier...I want you to wish for her."_

Pitch frowned; he moved away from the Sandman's touch. The other grinned; dreamsand rustled around him, giggling with delight.

_"...Do we have a deal, Guardian?"_ he asked, extending a hand out to the boogeyman, _"...Or don't we?"_

Pitch examined the dream-giver intently, suspicion filling his chest. He pressed his lips together in a hard line.

"...Very well..."

He met the Sandman's eyes.

"I wish for my daughter; I wish to have Seraphina back."

...The Sandman smiled like he had just won a prize of unimaginable value.

_"Good choice."_


	7. Chapter 7 I wish Pitch was here

**HAZZA!**

* * *

North was in his library, flipping through spell books. He was looking for something—anything—that might help with the current situation.

He had just finished going through the fortieth volume in what had been a very long series of books...And for the fortieth time he had been disappointed.

He had found nothing—absolutely nothing—on how to fight dreamsand.

"Moi deti!" he shouted, all but throwing the book aside.

He had books that told how to counter sleeping death, reveal un-awakened powers,—some even listed how to control an individual's actions and thoughts with sleep—but there wasn't anything on how to counter a dreamsand-sleep

He put his head in his hands.

_In all of his centuries of existence…of all the hard times he had faced...he had never felt like this._

_Had never felt so—__helpless__._

The sound of the library door opening startled North out of his thoughts. He turned to see Toothiana hovering in the doorway—Jack Frost was standing some ways behind her.

"North?" the fairy queen asked—her voice was soft and tentative.

North gave her his best smile.

"Greetings!" he bellowed, trying to sound light-hearted, "Please, come in room."

Tooth slowly fluttered into the room; Jack Frost sulked in behind her.

"So, what is news?" he asked cheerily, "Have either of you found way to wake people up? To stop Sandman?"

Tooth looked at him, her face drawn and sad. She shook her head. Jack waved his staff carelessly and stared at the floor.

North frowned. He got up from his chair and walked over to them; he placed a hand on either of their shoulders.

"Is alright..." he said softly, looking from one to the other, "...We will find way...we will fix it..."

"Oh North..." Tooth whispered, her voice breaking slightly, "North...I've tried everything I can think of. I've screamed at people, I've shaken them—nothing works!"

She put her face in her hands; North squeezed her shoulder, comfortingly.

"We will _fix__it_." He said again, his tone determined.

The three stood in silence for a moment, each lost in their thoughts. It wasn't until a tunnel appeared and Bunnymund hopped out that they came back to their senses.

"Bunny?!" North began, "What—"

"We've got a problem." the other said curtly.

He was holding something in his arms—something small—and alive.

Tooth placed her hands over her mouth and nose, forming a steeple; Jack took a step back in shock.

"...Moi deti." North whispered.

It was a little girl, with blonde hair and costume butterfly wings—and she was fast asleep.

...Fast asleep...and _dreaming_.

"Sophie?!" Jack exclaimed; he flew to Bunny's side in a flurry of snowflakes.

"...She was in the Warren..." Bunny stated, matter-of-factly—almost dully, "I don't know how she got there, but she was in the Warren—she should have been safe there!"

Gently, he placed the child on a chair; Jack crouched down and looked at the girl—his blue eyes were filled with sorrow.

Bunny turned and met North's gaze.

"...He's found the _Warren_, mate..." the other guardian stated, a bit of panic rising in his voice, "The whole place is crawlin' with his gold-faced demons..."

Bunny bristled slightly; he folded his ears back in agitation.

North stared at him for a moment, then he looked at the little girl on the chair; he furrowed his eyebrows angrily.

_The Sandman would feel his blades for this..._

"..._He_ would have known what to do."

North turned to look at Tooth, raising his eyebrows in surprise; Bunny and Jack did likewise. The fairy queen was standing on the floor with her wings folded neatly behind her back; she had her hands clasped in front of her, and her head was hanging low.

"Tooth...don't." North said—the hint of a plea was in his tone.

Tooth lifted her head and looked at him—her eyes were sparkling with tears.

"...I wish Pitch was here."

The room fell unnaturally silent...so silent that you could have heard a heartbeat...

...Or the ghost of one.

North shut his eyes; he pressed a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.

The death of the Boogeyman was still a recent event—and it was still painful to think about; it was like a fresh wound in their hearts— open and bleeding.

North squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

And with the Sandman spreading permanent-sleep across the world—and now apparently sending his dream sprites to find and invade their homes— they had never really got a chance to grieve for their fallen friend and ally…It was something that they all deeply regretted.

"...Well...he _ain't_..."

North opened his eyes and glanced at Bunny; the Guardian of Hope was watching the sleeping child, his arms folded tightly across his chest; his eyes were dark and brooding. Jack gripped the arm of the chair with both hands, his head hung between his elbows. Tooth sniffled from behind.

"...So...what can we do now?" Tooth asked, softly, "...If the Sandman knows where the Warren is then he must know where my palace is—and everyone knows about the North Pole...where is there left to go?"

North closed his eyes again.

"...Is one place left." He said, quietly.

North could practically feel the eyes of Tooth and Bunny upon him. He opened his eyes.

Tooth had moved; she was now fluttering by Bunny's shoulder, a look of pain was on her face. Bunny was staring at him, eyes pleading.

"No, mate...not there—it's too soon!"

"Where is it?"

They all turned to Jack.

The winter spirit rose from his crouching position; he glanced at the three of them.

"If there's any place left that's safe, that's where we have to go..." he said, quietly.

He lifted his head and looked directly at the three Guardians; his expression was sad—but determined.

"...Look, I know I'm not the nicest guy in the world..." he said, "And I know that I screw things up a lot...but I know the difference between right and wrong...and this—"

He gestured to the sleeping girl.

"—is wrong...What the Sandman is doing is wrong!"

The boy turned to North.

"Where is it?" he asked again, clutching his staff tightly.

North met his gaze, eyes filled with sorrow.

"...Nightmare realm." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sandy was in his room, adding a few final touches to his 'miracle' when he heard the unmistakable murmur of a wish being made.

_**"...I wish Pitch was here..."**_

Sandy smiled a dark, cruel smile.

_"Tough luck, Tooth...you memory-hoarding harpy."_

He floated over to his dressing table; picking up his jewelry box, he opened it and took out a locket— almost identical to the one he had returned to Pitch. He floated back to his masterpiece— a little girl sitting on a chair. She was hugging her knees to her chest.

_"...Those goody-goody guardians are such a pain in the sand..."_

He fastened the locket around the child's neck. He formed a dreamcloud and sat down in front of her, criss-crossing his legs.

_"...What do you think?"_ he asked, conversationally, _"—Seraphina?"_

The girl didn't look at him; she rocked herself on the chair.

"Daddy..." she whimpered,"...I want my _Daddy."_


	8. Chapter 8 The nightmare

The Nightmare realm wasn't a pleasant place.

It was gloomy and dark, with whispers and drippings coming from things unseen in the lurking shadows.

Jack gulped and clutched his staff tightly.

"Are you sure it's safe here?" he asked, glancing at North.

"Da, is very safe." The larger man stated as they made their way through the gloom, "No good dreams—Sandman cannot find us here."

Bunny hopped to Jack's side, an obnoxious grin on his face.

"What? Yer not _scared_, are ya frostbite?" he asked teasingly.

Jack glared at him.

"I'm not afraid." He declared, huffily.

Bunny's eyes softened.

"S'alright, mate." He said, gently, "Nothin's gonna hurt ya."

Jack didn't respond. Instead, he turned his head to look at the flying figure behind him.

"How is she?" he asked, glancing at the little girl in the guardian's arms. Tooth looked dismally at him.

"Still asleep." she said, her voice was weary and dull, "Still dreaming."

Jack looked at the Guardian despairingly and turned his head back forwards.

_Goddamn the Sandman._

They walked for who knows how long; only stopping when they reached a small room—a study by the look of it. It was dimly lit and not exactly welcoming, but it wasn't quite as ominous and menacing as the rest of the place. North hurried over to a nearby desk, and began desperately sorting through papers and notes; Bunny went to stand in a corner by the doorway.

Tooth took a seat in a small chair, hugging Sophie to her breast. Jack found a chair and perched, bird-like, on it; he watched the others attentively. Biting his lip, he looked at the floor.

"...So...what do we do now?" he asked in a quiet voice—he knew full well that it wasn't a welcomed question.

No one responded at first (though Jack was certain that Bunny was sending him a death glare), but after a while, North spoke.

"...Now we plan." The other affirmed, looking over a stack of notes, "We come up with way to stop Sandman."

Jack let out an exasperated sigh and fell with a _"plop!"_ into his chair. He squeezed his eyes shut.

_"How?"_ he wanted to ask...wanted to scream, _"How can we stop him? How, How, __How__, HOW?"_

No one spoke for a while; the only sound that was heard was the sound of North rustling through papers and the occasional muttering of Sophie as she dreamed.

"...Did you hear that?"

Jack looked at Tooth; North and Bunny did as well.

The winged Guardian was sitting straight and rigid against her chair; she held Sophie protectively against her chest.

"Hear what?" Jack asked, rising from his seat.

Tooth didn't reply; she stared at the doorway, eyes wide and fearful. Bunny hopped to her side.

"Tooth?...Ya OK?" he asked, a look of concern on his face.

"...Something's out there." She whispered, her voice was low and intense.

Jack cocked his head and stared at her, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Bunny looked as if he was going to say something more—but a sound silenced him.

Tooth took to the air immediately, tightening her grip on Sophie. Bunny grabbed his boomerang and took a defensive stance by her side; Jack ran to position himself at her other side. North bounded over to join them, swords drawn and ready.

They all watched the doorway.

The noise came again...It was a low, soft sound—like swishing of leaves in a tree.

_"Or the rustling of dreamsand."_ Jack thought, his heart filling with dread. He gulped audibly.

They heard the noise again...It was coming closer.

"Face us!" North bellowed, his expression ferocious and angry.

They heard the sound for a third time. Then two points of gold, like eyes, shown from the darkness.

Jack could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest.

The eyes tilted slightly, like the creature, whatever it was, was cocking its head at them. It moved to come into the room.

Tooth gasped; Bunny swore something under his breath.

An animal stepped into view just inside the doorway—a horse black as night and with lean, jagged features.

Jack stared at the creature with an expression of confusion mixed with worry. A million questions—and twice as many dreadful possible-answers—shifted through his mind.

_"WONDERFUL!"_

Jack jumped, shaken from his thoughts; Tooth let out a small yelp of surprise and Bunny swore profusely; they all turned to North.

The Russian man had sheathed his weapons and was grinning ear to ear; he looked at them all with bright, merry eyes.

"Is wonderful!" he exclaimed again, his smile widening, "Pitch is _genius_!"

He strode over to the dark creature.

"North?! What are you—?" Jack began—pausing when he felt Bunny's paw on his shoulder.

Jack looked up at Bunny—the rabbit's face was thoughtful...maybe even a little excited.

"S'just wait n' see." The other said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Jack swallowed visibly. He turned his gaze back to North.

The guardian stood in front of the horse, barely an arm's length away. He reached out a hand.

The horse snorted; it eyed North uncertainly.

"Is fine..." North said comfortingly, "Is alright."

The mount cocked its head. Gingerly, it touched its muzzle to North's hand. North smiled.

"...Хорошо..." the guardian whispered, gently, "...Okay."

Jack released a ragged breath of relief; he lowered his staff. He looked at North and tilted his head slightly with confusion.

_He was going to have a lot of questions later, wasn't he?_

"Pitch, you magnificent bastard."

Jack turned to Bunny.

The other had put up his boomerang; he gazed at the dark steed affectionately, a wide grin spread across his face. He glanced down at Jack.

"Now we got somethin' to work with."

He hopped over to North. By now, the horse was nuzzling against the guardian's chest, whinnying like a love-struck filly.

"So what do we call this little Sheila?" Bunny asked, patting the steed's dark neck tenderly.

The beast nickered happily and placed its head on Bunny's shoulder. North grinned.

"She is Nightmare." He said, petting the horse's shoulder, "she will help us."

Jack watched the three of them quizzically, with his mouth hanging open and his eyebrows furrowed together; he looked from North, to the horse, to Bunny, to the horse again.

_...He was going to have a __ton__ of questions later._

Laughing, the two guardians began to walk back to where Jack and Tooth were still standing (or, in Tooth's case, hovering). The horse pranced after them. Tooth joined in on the laughter and fluttered to meet them. Jack followed, head reeling with unanswered questions.

"Leave it to Pitch." she said, shaking her head in amusement.

She looked at North.

"So—how do we go about this?" she asked, adjusting her hold on Sophie.

North pulled at his beard thoughtfully. He looked at the horse.

"Bring girl to Nightmare." He said, "We will see what happens."

Jack was about to protest, but decided against it.

_"After all," he reasoned, "How dangerous can it be, prancing around like that? And besides—"_

He lifted his staff ever-so-slightly.

_"I can handle it if things get out of hand."_

Tooth fluttered over to hover in front of the steed; slowly, she lifted Sophie to its face.

The horse cocked its head; it twitched its ears uncertainly.

Tooth brought Sophie a bit closer and gave the horse an encouraging smile.

The mount twitched its ears again; nickering softly, it pressed its muzzle to Sophie's cheek.

The dream dancing around Sophie's head twisted and writhed, warping into the shape of another horse; its golden color morphed into an inky black.

The darkened dream—the Nightmare—grew in size until it was as big as the original one. Neighing happily, it trotted over to Jack and began to nibble affectionately at his hair.

Jack tried to repress a laugh and looked over at Sophie.

_She was moving._

Jack sucked in his breath; everyone (Nightmares included) leaned in close.

Sophie squirmed against Tooth's arms. One of her little hands clenched at the feathers just below the fairy's collarbone.

"...Mommy?" she murmured, her eyelids flickering open.

They all let out relieved sighs, a finely-tuned orchestra of held-in breaths. Sophie yawned and smiled at them, eyes wide and curious.

The Nightmare beside her whinnied happily and nuzzled her cheek again; Sophie turned her head to look at it

Jack sucked in his breath again. _She was going to panic! He was sure of it!_

"Pretty!" She squealed.

Jack let out his breath in a bewildered squawk. The Nightmare by his side whinnied comfortingly and licked the side of his face.

Sophie reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around the Nightmare's muzzle; she glared back at Tooth.

"Pony _mine_!" she barked, her voice edged with as much seriousness as a two-year-old with costume butterfly wings could manage.

Tooth giggled.

"Sure thing, Sweetie." She said, smiling with relief and joy.

Bunny chuckled and scratched at the fur on his neck.

"Feisty little ankle-biter, ain't she?" he stated with a crooked-grin on his face.

"Bunny! Hop! Hop!" Sophie giggled.

She released the Nightmare's muzzle and reached for Bunny.

"Hop! Hop! Hop!"

Bunny gave a hoot of laughter. Tooth giggled and placed the little girl in his arms. Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Fwuffy!" she cried.

Jack watched as his Nightmare moved over to Bunny to get her share of attention from the little girl; smiling, when Sophie squealed and stated that the other Nightmare was also 'hers.'

"Pitch is genius."

Jack glanced up to see North smiling at him; his eyes were merry and bright and full of hopeful wonder. Jack smiled back at him.

"...Burgess first?" he asked the Guardian.

North gave him a toothy grin. He nodded.

"Let us go and create Nightmares!"

Sandy couldn't help but grin as he floated down the hall to the Boogeyman's room. He had waited for this moment for so long.

When he reached the door, Sandy took a deep breath to calm his growing excitement; he put on his sweetest, most disarming smile.

Forming a key he opened the door and peeked inside.

Pitch was lying on his back on the floor; his tattered robe was opened in such a way that revealed his chest and stomach, covered in purple and blue scars.

Sandy had to refrain from licking his lips.

Pitch glanced up at him, his eyes were tired—but still oh-so proud and defiant.

_"...But not for much longer." _Sandy thought as he floated into the room.

"Come to gloat?" Pitch asked—his voice was tantalizingly soft—weak.

Sandy felt the tip of his tongue poke out of his mouth and trace over his lips...so much for self-control.

Thankfully, the Boogeyman hadn't seemed to notice; he was too preoccupied with trying to get up. Sandy watched with mock-concern as the other struggled into a sitting position, cursing from pain.

"What—more," Pitch continued, voice rasping from exertion, "can you—do to—torment me? What more—can you take—away?"

Sandy gave him a well-practiced look of confusion and shock.

_"What are you talking about?"_ he asked, innocently, _"I haven't taken anything away from you."_

Pitch grunted from pain; he glared at him.

"D-d-_daughter_." He stuttered, "You promised me—my _daughter_."

Sandy smiled serenely at him. He floated over to Pitch's side.

_"I mean to keep that promise."_ He stated, pulling the Boogeyman to his feet.

"What—do you mean?" Pitch asked, staggering slightly.

Sandy smiled sweetly at him.

_"...She's waiting for you."_


	9. Please Read this!

**Thank you to the people who is reading this... But if you want to read the full story please go to this website**

** Achiveof****ourown .org then search the title of the story. It should be there... **

**Thank you and enjoy the story on the website. **

**Sorry but read it from there and leave Kudos for the author!~ **

**SOOO LOOONGG!~~**

**~Lonewolf270**


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